The Beginning of the End
by crabbyabby3
Summary: New FanFic! Mostly about George Weasley and how he deals with things right after the Battle of Hogwarts. Pretty sad...  R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everybody! My name's crabbyabby3. This is my second fanfic. I have another one (it's Glee) called Apology Accepted, that I just finished. But I am really excited to start this new one! So, please, keep reading and then review! By the way, this is sort of a sad story, so beware. This chapter is long, but it'll be a pretty short story. It takes place several days after the Battle of Hogwarts. You may cry. That's my goal; but I probably can't write that well... ~8-)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! Obviously!**

The Beginning of The End

Chapter 1

This was the end. George Weasley could feel it. He was sure his life was over. It would never be the same. Everything felt plain and blank, and like nothing had a purpose. George felt like he was falling slowly. Not through air, but more like through thick mud. He was falling slowly, but he couldn't stop himself. And even if he could, he wasn't sure if he would. He didn't think he had that strength. And even though he was falling slowly, George Weasley knew he would still be in serious pain when he hit the bottom.

After the battle was over, George's family went home. His younger brother's current girlfriend, Hermione Granger, went to her parents' house. Everyone in the battle went back home. Ron, Ginny, Bill, Charlie, Percy and his mum and dad went back to the Burrow. Harry Potter, George's almost-brother, went to live with... Well, George isn't sure who he was with now because anyone he could've gone with was gone. Dead. But George had a feeling he would see Harry soon, which was good. He liked Harry. And now they both had something in common: They both had to deal with the death of someone close to them.

When George had arrived at the Burrow, no one spoke to him. He was pretty sure Ginny tried to hug him, but he wouldn't let her. George couldn't take being at home, being in his room. Everything reminded him of _him._ The paint splotch on the window reminded George of the time they had tried Puking Pastilles for the first time, and everything had gone wrong. The makeshift Quidditch pitch brought back memories of _him_ when he played Keeper and sucked. Even the ruddy holes in the ground reminded George of the garden gnomes they would always chase.

At all of these memories, there had been laughter. But now, George was filled with pain and despair. He couldn't take it. He left a note on his pillow that said this:

_Have gone to a place where I can be alone. Please don't look for me. I'll be back soon._

George placed the note on his bed. He had to reach though, because _he_ and George shared a bunk bed. George had the top, and _he _had the bottom. George sat down at the desk by the bed. The wood was covered in various splotches and stains from experiments they had tested on the desk. He quickly stood up. The memories were too painful. It was time to leave.

In a haste, George gathered some possessions. He grabbed a medium-sized leather pouch, and put some clothes, a toothbrush, a family picture and his rat inside. He would take the rat out later, but for now he was in the pouch. George didn't bring food or blankets because he planned on only being away for several days, and the place where he was going had food and beds, and he could always make some appear with his wand. Obviously.

George apparated downstairs. Walking took to much energy. Luckily there was no one in the kitchen. His dad and mum were outside on the front porch, most likely talking and crying and making arrangements about Harry Potter (probably coming to live with them) and _him._ He knew Ginny was upstairs in her room, but he didn't know what she was doing. Probably crying or thinking about Harry, her boyfriend. He knew Charlie and Bill had gone to Bill's cottage (Fleur was visiting family in France) but he wasn't quite sure what they were doing either. They seemed upset, but not nearly as upset as Percy. He locked himself up in his room two days ago, and hadn't been out since. He had probably made some food with his wand, so it wasn't like he was dying in there or anything.

And Ron, well, 17 year old Ron was probably not even thinking about the family tragedies. He was off with his friends, probably in Hogsmeade celebrating. He realized now that's probably where Granger and Potter were too.

The thought disgusted him. How could Ron, his own brother, be so insensitive? He couldn't believe it. If he were Ron, well, he didn't know what he would be doing if he were Ron. But he defiantly wouldn't be out partying and, Merlin forbid, _having fun._

George looked around one more time, then sneaked out the door. He was good at sneaking; he had lots of practice. As soon as he was outside in the middle of the front yard, he squeezed his eyes tight and thought of the place he wanted to go. Then, with a _pop_ he was at his destination: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

George walked around the empty store, and looked at all of their products that took so long to make but were so fun. _Him_ and George would always test the products before selling them, and they never sold defect products. George thought they were great salesmen. But George knew he couldn't continue his work without _him._

That night, George slept in the little apartment above the store. He resolved that the next day, he would do something about Ron, whether it was an owl or a butt-kicking. Or maybe just a simple talk would do.

The next morning, the Wealsey family owl swooped in through the open skylight and dropped a letter by the foot of George's bed. He rolled over to try and reach it. He grabbed it, walked over to his desk, slipped on a robe and tore the letter open.

As soon as he opened it he could tell the by the penmanship Ginny had written the letter. It read,

_Dear George,_

_Where are you? Are you okay? I found your note on your bed last night. Mum and Dad think you're out making arrangements because that's what I told them. Ron is still in Hogsmeade doing who knows what, the bastard. Anyway I saw the note when I came in your room because I wanted to talk to you. George, do you feel weird inside? I do. It hurts. Please come home. I miss you. _

_Ginny_

George had tears in his eyes as he folded the note back up. Ginny and George were never very close, but he knew Ginny was fond of him. And they both were close to _him._ It was nice to know that Ginny cared as he did. But it made him angry to hear Ron had still not been home after four days. Ginny was right, he was a little git. He was going to Hogsmeade to get some sense in him, but not before he scrawled a quick reply to his sister.

_Ginny, I'll be home soon. But first, I need to go talk to Ron. Everything will be okay._

…

_George _

After the owl flew away, George quickly put on another shirt and pants, freshened up a bit, and then he was off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys. So here's Chapter 2. Sorry it's been so long since I updated!I just wanted to say that this story will probably end up being pretty short, a few chapters. Also, I realized a few days ago that in the last chapter I made a mistake. I wrote that George planned to use transfiguration to get some food, but according to the Gamps Law of Elemental Transfiguration you cannot create food with magic... So, whoops! Also, just know that I'm not basing my characters on the real ones. Some of the things I write are very unrealistic. Enjoy the chapter! Please review!**

The Beginning of the End

Chapter 2

When George arrived in Hogsmeade, he stood outside the door to the Three Broomsticks. He had a feeling Ron was in there; if not he would try the Hog's Head. Even if he did find Ron in Three Broomsticks, he would probably still stop by Hog's Head to talk to Abeforth, he liked George. But for now, he was in the Three Broomsticks.

It was loud inside, and quite crowded. George walked around, trying not to bump into not only the waitresses but also the staggering drunks roaming the place. It smelled of sweat and pumpkin juice, but surprisingly it wasn't too revolting. He searched for Ron, or Harry, or any one he might know, but saw no one. Finally, he saw Ron, Harry, Seamus Finnegan, Hermione Granger, and Luna Lovegood crowded around a table in the back corner. They were all chatting animatedly. Not one of them looked upset.

It made George _furious. _He wanted to throw something. With his vision tinted in red, he walked swiftly towards the table. Luna and Hermione were drinking pumpkin juice (un-alcoholic), Seamus and Harry were drinking butterbeer, and Ron had a tall glass of firewhiskey. None of them looked flat-out drunk, but it was clear the men weren't at they're finest. In fact, Ron could hear Seamus with the hiccups.

"Blimey, Ron! It's... George." Hermione cried, as George arrived at the head of their round table. Ron's head snapped up. "Oh! Hey, George! How's it going?'" Ron said. He smiled, but George could see the pain and regret he had hidden behind the mask of oblivion.

"Ron, don't act like you aren't aware!" George cried. Luna and Hermione exchanged a glance. Well, at least, Hermione did. Luna just stared off into space. Harry and Dean shifted uncomfortable on the leather booth seats. Everyone looked awkward. Meanwhile, Ron was glancing around to make sure no one had heard George. "Jeez, George, scream it to the whole world why don't ya?" George rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "Can we talk?" He asked. Ron hesitantly nodded, then got out of the booth and followed George outside to the back of the pub into a deserted alley. Harry, Dean, Hermione and Luna were left staring after them with confused and worried expressions on their faces.

As soon as the two brothers were safe from anyone overhearing them, George spoke. "What is your problem Ron?" He cried. Ron gulped. He was nearly as tall as George, but he still felt like a little shrimp under George's menacing glare. "Look, George... If this is about Fr-" George quickly cut Ron off with a pained look in his eyes. "Don't say it!" Albeit taken aback, Ron continued. " I can explain." He said.

George shook his head ruefully. "No need, brother. I already know what I need to know. You are a slimy old git, and I shouldn't even be talking to you. You ignored the family tragedies and went off to party with your friends. You got drunk, you were having fun... I bet you don't even want to come home! You know, Percy locked himself in his room. Ginny, Mum an Dad haven't stopped crying. Bill and Charlie are upset too! You're a selfish git! All of you! Tonks and Lupin died! What does Harry think about that? Hmm? I thought at least Harry would worry about his godson... But I suppose I was wrong! And when was the last time Hermione talked to her parents? And didn't you know that Dean's mum died? You're all insensitive JERKS!" George finished out of breath. Now, the look in Ron's eyes went from being guilty to angry. "That is not what happened!" He cried. "You don't even know the half of it, George!"

George rolled his eyes. "What's your excuse then? Humor me, pal." He said sarcastically. Ron took a deep breath. "I got drunk, okay?" He said. "After Harry killed Voldemort, there was a feast. Remember? So then I tried some firewhiskey, 'cos now I'm of age and stuff. I liked it, had some more, then had something else. I forget what. And so on. So did Harry and Seamus. We persuaded Hermione and Luna to come to Hogsmeade with us, and they did. I was drunk, okay? I didn't mean too! Then as soon as the fun and... side effects wore off yesterday morning, I wanted to go home. But we couldn't. The Floo network's still down, and we can't apparate here. No one know's why. I'm sorry! I want to go home!" He cried. George frowned.

"Fine. Whatever. Your'e still a jerk for getting drunk when... all that had happened. And you can to apparate here, see?" He then tried to apparate, but as soon as the _pop_ sound came, it had left, and George was still standing there.

"I told you!" Ron reeled. "How're we going to get home?" George had a _duh_ expression on his face.

"Obviously, Dumbo, we'll just get some brooms!" He cried, motioning to a stand to the left of the pub where an old warlock was selling brooms. "Hey, no need to use names!" Ron said in a defensive tone.

"There is if your brother's a self-observed idiot." Ron took a deep breath as if to restrain himself."Look, I want to go home! It's not my fault!" He cried. He leaned up the brick wall of the alley. "I know you're upest over Fr- what happened. I am too. But sheesh, you're acting like the world's ending! It's not... what you're making of it. You're overreacting. Seriously. Come out with me. Have a drink or two. Use some Fizzing Whizzbees! Or a Puking Pastel! _Ponder,_ George. Seriously."

Then, something in George cracked. He yelled, "Git! You have no feelings! I HATE you! I wish you had died instead of _him!_" Then he slapped Ron across the cheek.

Ron just laughed, rubbing his stinging cheek. "Thanks, George. Love you too. Nice to say to someone that they wished they were dead instead of someone else." George glared at Ron. "Oh, and I love how you say _him._ Face it George!" Ron cried.

"Fred is dead."


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay people, I am so sorry! I'm not sure that I even have more than one reader, so thats why I took a break from this story. But I'm back! So, if there are more than two readers out there, please, please, PLEASE review. Or else I might just stop this for good... Anyway here's chapter 3. Enjoy!**

The Beginning of the End

Chapter 3

It was three weeks after Ron and George's encounter. After Ron had said the words, George had just apparated, right then and there. The pain of hearing the name was too much for him. He spent the next few days in his apartment, alone. But eventually he returned to the Burrow, and he felt as if when he did that he was one step closer to being able to deal with Fred. He knew that he would never stop missing him, or grieving him, but he had to take small steps to end it. He was in the beginning of the process of moving on, yes, but he was in the beginning of the end.

One afternoon George decided to use Floo powder to get to the Burrow, but he immediately regretted it when he stepped out of the fireplace to come face to face with the person he despised most: His brother, Ronald.

"Hi, George." Ron said in a calm tone. George rolled his eyes and walked past Ron and into the kitchen to find his mother making lunch. "What is HE doing here?" George seethed. His mother pretended to look confused, but George could tell she knew who he was talking about. "Who, Ron? Oh, he just popped in yesterday. Said he was sorry, and ashamed. We told him it was fine and everyone had their ways of grieving all though his choice was... Quite unique. Anyway, he'll be living here for a while. Apparently Hermione wanted to go revive her parents, we should be getting an owl from her soon. Harry is taking care of some personal things, but he'll be joining us here shortly as well..."

George just stood there in shock. Ron had apologized? So his story was true... Now George was the one who like a git. He better go apologize...

"Ron..." George said as he walked into the sitting room. Ron turned around. "Yes?" He asked, looking half amused and half confused. Typical Ron, really. "Look, I just wanted to say I was sorry for yelling at you that day... I guess I was really upset about, you know... Fred and I-" Just then, Ron cut in. "George. It's okay. I was the one acting like a bloody git. He was my brother too, and instead of respectively mourning him I went off and got drunk! Like, who does that?" George rolled his eyes but half-smiled anyway. "So, are we good then?" He asked. "Yeah. Anyway, I came to my senses as soon as you left... But so yeah we're good." He smiled and clapped George on the back. George walked out of the room, looking sort of bemused.

He wandered into the kitchen and sat down. His mum and Ginny were having a heated discussion about Harry coming to live at the Burrow, but George tuned them out. However, as soon as he sat down the two women stopped talking adruptly and stared at him. After a few moment's silence, George spoke up."What?" He asked. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny quickly snapped out of there trances, both looking quite awkward. "Nothing, sweetie. We were just surprised that you're back!" Mrs. Weasley said in a huff. George made a face but didn't say anything.

When he was finished with his breakfast, George cleaned off his plate and walked into his room. It was only the second time he had been in there since Fred's passing, and it still smelled like Fred. Fred's clothing was strewn everywhere, as was George's. There were some Puking Pastels on the ground, and the beds were unmade. George's instincts told him to bolt, because once the memories came flooding back in, it was almost too much. _Almost. _George took a deep breath and walked further into the room. The closer he got to Fred's bed the harder it became for George, but he held strong. He finally sat down on the edge of the twin mattress and inhaled the scent of his twin brother, his best mate, and favorite person in the world. He inhaled the scent of Fred Weasley.

...

Twenty minutes later, George found himself out in the backyard, sitting in an awfully small hiding place. Fred and George used to come here a lot when they were little, but now it could barely fit George. He found a wad of gum, a comic book, and a tattered Gnome hat. At least he thought thats what it was...

George had not been in this secret spot in the garden since eight years ago. But he had returned today to think. He needed to think about something that he had been dreading since Fred's death: The Funeral.

It had been postponed until five days from now. His mum had set the date, but everyone was leaving the rest up to George. The... body was being shipped to the Burrow from it's current place behind Hogwarts (others were there too) in three days, which meant George had very little time. But George did not mind that the funeral was his responsibility. He knew that if it was left to anyone else, they would not do it right. They would make it sad and dark and maybe even beautiful, but Fred would not have wanted beautiful. He would have wanted it to be happy, bright, cheerful and fun (if possible). He would want to be sent out with a bang, and a very large one at that...

George thought back to the last conversation Fred and him had ever had.

"**Listen, Fred..." George had started. **

"**What?" Fred had asked as he moved about the Gryfindor common room collecting things such as pens and stray wands, anything that might come in handy. **

"**What if... One of us doesn't make it?" George had said. He knew that he had to ask the question, for it was in fact very possible. **

**Fred looked up, startled at the bluntness of the question. "George. We'll make it. And... If I don't, please, please, don't let me have a boring... You know. Funeral. I don't want Mum to get all depressed. I'll trust you, George. And of course, I'll assume the same for you if you..." Fred trailed off, his face screwed up.**

Yes, George knew he would make Fred's funeral unforgettable. But first, he would need some fireworks.

**Okay, I hope you all enjoyed chapter tres! Next chapter will be the funeral, but like I said I probably won't be able to UD until a week from now. Reviews would be AMAZING!**


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